Blood of the Isir Omnibus

by Erik Henry Vick

  “I still—”

  “Anyone except Isakrim?” Sif said with a kind smile, and there was more laughter in the crowd, but no one asked to speak.

  “Again, I ask you, does anyone object to this man being named Isakrim, Konungur of the Isir?”

  The word meant ‘king’ in the Gamla Toonkumowl, but it felt heavy in the air—as a yoke must feel to an ox—and I thought of the conversation Hel and Luka had shared the day she abdicated her throne.

  I held up my hands. “I would speak, and as you agree I have Isir blood, it is my right.”

  Sif nodded and took a step back.

  “I did not come to Osgarthr for any purpose other than to free my wife and son. I don’t want to be konungur, I don’t want power. I don’t have the answers you need. I know little about your culture, almost nothing about your history.”

  “Good!” someone shouted in the throng of Isir before me, and a titter ran through the crowd.

  I smiled. “Listen, I understand your desire for someone—”

  “Enough, Isakrim,” said another voice from the crowd. “Your pardon! I meant to say: Konungur Isakrim.” More laughter reverberated through the room.

  I shook my head and glanced at Jane. She was all smiles as she nodded.

  “I don’t want to be your king,” I said to the gathered Isir. “I don’t think I’m suited for it. But, if I’m to do this—”

  The crowd cheered.

  I waited for them to quiet down and resumed. “But if I do this, you must help me. And there will be laws that every Isir must agree to at a Thing. I will need advisors, other leaders—”

  “Hank, we know all this. We have a culture built around these concepts,” said Sif.

  “That may well be, but it never hurts to make everything clear.”

  “Konungur—” someone yelled.

  “And that’s another thing. None of this ‘konungur’ nonsense. I’m no better than any of you. Call me by my name.”

  “Very well, Isakrim,” said Mothi with a grin.

  I sighed and glared at Mothi. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  He flashed a smile, and then to my horror, he knelt in front of me and unsheathed his axes. He laid his axes at my feet. “I am Mothi Strongheart, and my deeds are known and need not be repeated. Let everyone, far and wide, hear my words: I stand by your side, Aylootr, and I will neither flee from your enemies nor stand by while you fight alone. I am Mothi Strongheart, and I stand between you and those who wish you or your family harm. I am Mothi Strongheart, and I do not forget the times you saved me, nor the gifts you’ve given me, nor the times you graciously didn’t shoot me with those noisemakers you carry…or break my legs! I am Mothi Strongheart, and my axes are yours.” When he finished speaking, he bowed his head.

  I stood there flabbergasted, looking down at the crown of his head.

  Meuhlnir took a step forward. “Hank, to accept Mothi into your service, you must give him leave to take up his axes, as by our custom, they belong to you now.”

  I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded. “Mothi Strongheart, I accept your oath. Take up these axes and stand, friend.”

  Smiling like a great buffoon, Mothi took his weapons and sheathed them before jumping down from the table, and his father stepped up to take his place.

  Fifty-six

  After the celebratory dinner, I left Jane and Sig getting ready for bed and stepped into one of the rooms guarded by a blue door.

  “Haymtatlr?” I asked.

  “Yes, Hank?”

  “Were you listening to the Thing?”

  “Yes. Congratulations, Konungur Isakrim.”

  I rolled my remaining eye. “Hank is fine.”

  “What can I do for you, Hank?”

  “The first request I have is that you disallow the use of your preer, except with my permission. I’ll get you a list of people to always allow and others to never allow.”

  “Consider it done. Anything else?”

  “Do you know what a surveillance satellite is?”

  “Isi was fond of such things.”

  That fit with what I knew of the man. “Are Isi’s satellites still in orbit?”

  “No, Hank. Their orbits decayed long ago.”

  “I see. You wouldn’t have the capability to create more, would you?”

  “Child’s play.”

  “Good. And is there some way to, say, drop a satellite into orbit around some other planet, some other klith, and monitor that satellite remotely?”

  “That’s an interesting question. The problem, of course, being the distance to the other planet within the same pocket universe and the relevant transmission times created by such a distance. For satellites in non-homogenous universes that is not a problem, as it would be impossible to maintain synchronicity with such a satellite irrespective of distance.”

  “What if I created a very tiny proo and linked part of the satellite to this place?” I scratched my head and looked around. “By the way, did Isi give this place a name? I’m tired of calling it the Herperty af Roostum all the time.”

  “Rooms of Ruin? That’s inaccurate. I maintain this installation with a high degree of efficiency, and—”

  “Yes, Haymtatlr, I know. It’s what people call it on the outside.”

  “Oh, well. People should try to be more exacting. Isi called it Valaskyowlf.”

  “The shelf of the slain? Really?”

  “He had a flair for the dramatic. He named it thus after a particularly vicious assault by the Vanir, in which they used trickery to gain entrance and then assaulted the base from the inside, ruining several important experiments. I view this assault in a somewhat different light because it led to my creation.”

  “How is that?”

  “Isi recorded vast arrays of data during the attack. It seems the Vanir had other-worldly allies who wielded great power. They built my first iteration to help analyze the data, but they expanded my abilities many times in the years that followed to reach my current state.”

  “I see,” I said.

  “The data analysis inspired Isi to create the Isir in their current form. I have long suspected that the so-called other-worldly invaders were misplaced in time, and not associated with either Vani or Jot.”

  “Why would you think so?” I lifted a hand to hide my smile.

  “Isi’s story makes little sense. Why destroy a few robots, kill a general, break up a lab, but leave Isi and his scientists alive and in possession of all that data?”

  “Yes, that makes sense.”

  “Plus, I recognized Jane, Sig, you, and a few of your colleagues when you first arrived.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “And risk creating a paradox that eliminated my creation?”

  “Fair point.”

  “But as to your question: Yes, that would work.”

  My question? Oh, the tiny preer for the satellites. I nodded. “What else would be required?”

  “Your suggestion makes everything easier. Each satellite could be connected directly via a fiberoptic cable. Since you can position the necessary preer where you need them, the cables could be short, increasing the efficiency.”

  “Well…great. How long would it take to create the satellites?”

  “I’ve begun the procedures to retool a guardian production line. How many satellites will you need?”

  “How about I tell you what I want to do, and you take care of the details?”

  “Yes, Hank. I can do that. Isi and I had a similar relationship toward the end.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Well, thanks. I want to check trouble spots, both on Osgarthr and in other realms. I want sufficient precision that I can see individuals, track what they are doing—whether or not they are inside a building. I want you to watch certain individuals at all times.”

  “Hel and Luka,” he said.

  “Among others, yes.”

  “Leave it with me.”

&nbs
p; “Fair enough. Thanks.”

  “Isi never said thank you. It’s nice.”

  “That’s how my mother raised me.”

  “Must be nice to have a mother.”

  “Yes. Well… I’d better get to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”

  “Say ‘Hi’ to Jane for me.”

  I nodded, wondering how much humanity Haymtatlr had learned to replicate, and how much he’d learned.

  Fifty-seven

  The next day I stood staring up at Iktrasitl and its living tapestry of runes. Keri and Fretyi sat, one on each side of me, and craned their heads up to look at the tree. I wondered where my runes resided on its bark, and what came next. Behind me stood representatives of the races who had allied with Meuhlnir and those races who had allied with Hel in the war, including the oolfa and other Isir from Fankelsi. My council of Isir also stood back there, along with Hel and Luka. The only races not represented were the Plowir Medn and the Plauinn. Encircling us was the most extensive array of armed men and women I’d ever seen: an army of the Isir who’d sworn allegiance to me the preceding evening. My Isir army.

  I turned and faced the array of people, and my two varkr pups turned with me. “I am Isakrim,” I said, “Konungur of the Isir.” It still felt wrong to say that, but I could hardly pull off what I needed to if I went in all wishy-washy. “The war has ended.” I nodded at Hel. “Hel has lost.”

  She scowled and turned her face away.

  “Is it true?” asked Perkelmir, the representative of the frost giants of Niflhaymr. Hel ignored him, suddenly interested in her nails. The giant turned his attention to Luka. “Is it true? This Isakrim has beaten you?”

  Luka gazed up into the giant’s face, fire dancing in his eyes, but he nodded.

  “You serve him now?” demanded the giant.

  Luka turned his fiery gaze on me. “I do as my queen chooses. Whatever, wherever, whenever, Queen Hel chooses.”

  I nodded, having expected nothing less from him. “Queen Hel is free to choose as she likes,” I said, matching Luka’s tone. “As are you.”

  Her head snapped around, and she squinted at me through eyelids narrowed to slits. “Do not mock me!”

  I held up my hands, palms up. “No. I don’t mock you. You are a queen to your people, and you are due respect.” That was the line Sif had suggested we take with her, and I couldn’t find fault with it.

  She appeared at least partially mollified.

  “I side with Queen Hel,” said Perkelmir. He cast his gaze across the rest of the representatives. “It would serve you best to do the same. Together, we can crush this upstart Isir!”

  Hel shook her head but said nothing. I thought I caught a gleam in her eye before she turned away, nonetheless.

  “What is your choice, Queen Hel?” I asked. “Will you join your people against the Plauinn?”

  “The Plauinn?” scoffed the Svartalfar representative. He’d given his name as Hrokafutlur, which meant “arrogant” in the Gamla Toonkumowl, and I doubted that was his real name. “A tale to scare children!”

  “I wish that’s all they were,” I said, shaking my head. “But as my emissaries no doubt told you when they delivered my invitation, the Plauinn have been manipulating relationships among the races for a long time, driving wedges, creating hatred. They have only one goal: remake the universe in their image. The Plauinn are stronger than any of us.”

  Hrokafutlur scoffed and turned his head away.

  “We are in grave danger—all of us. I’ve been to the underverse, the realm of the Plauinn. A friend and I rescued Queen Hel from Owraythu’s realm, and I battled Owraythu and her brother, Mirkur, on this spot,” I said, sweeping my arms out to my sides. “Without a powerful ally, who wishes to remain anonymous for the time being, we’d have lost, and even with her help, Mirkur escaped along with most of the Plowir Medn who attacked us.”

  Hrokafutlur shook his head.

  One of Hel’s courtiers stepped forward. By the gaunt lines of his face and body, he was not only a courtier but an oolfur. “You’d claim the right of leadership of us all?”

  “I claim no leadership of anyone who is not Isir. But if you are Isir, and you intend to live among your race here on Osgarthr, you must swear your oath and accept my laws, same as the rest.”

  The oolfur shook his head. “But you enforce the Ayn Loug. How am I to eat?”

  John Calvin Brown stepped out of the ring of Isir troops. “By your leave, Isakrim?”

  I nodded and held my hand out in his direction.

  He bowed his head for a moment before lifting his gaze to the oolfa present. “Unlike what we have always believed, we can overcome the layth oolfsins. The Lady Sif has helped me regain my humanity.”

  Luka made a noise of contempt, but I saw many of the assembled oolfa exchange questioning glances. “It’s true,” I said. “The changes wrought by breaking the Ayn Loug are reversible. John is living proof.” I nodded at him, and he stepped back into the throng of Isir warriors. “Each of you is free to make your own choice. I will force no one to choose one way or the other. But, know this: Any Isir who does not swear his oath to me and rejoin his fellow Isir will not be free to go where he pleases.”

  “And how will you stop them?” sneered Hrokafutlur.

  “They will become my thralls.” The oolfa and other courtiers of Queen Hel shouted refusals. I held up my hand. “It is not permanent, and I will exercise no rights over what you do or with whom you associate. The only thing I will enforce is where you are.”

  “Meaning what?” asked Hel.

  I nodded and held my hand out to Althyof. He stepped forward and laid a shining metal collar in my hand. I held it up and turned it, so all could see the runes carved into its sides. The metal was light and warm, like the chisel used to engrave it. “If you choose not to join us, you will wear this collar until such a time as we deal with the threat or you change your mind.”

  “And what does this collar do?” snapped Luka.

  I flashed a grim smile at him. “You’ve already experienced the effect I’ve enchanted in these collars. But for everyone else’s edification, it monitors your location, and if you try to leave your assigned area, it will lock you in a memory loop.”

  “And what does that mean?” asked one of the oolfa.

  Hel shook her head and grimaced at me, but I thought I detected a glint of admiration in her gaze. “It means you fall unconscious and experience one of your memories again and again until someone lifts the curse.”

  “It’s not a curse,” I said. “It’s only a method of controlling—”

  “It is a curse,” she said. “I would know, would I not?”

  I lifted my shoulders and let them fall. “I disagree. I know what it is to suffer under someone’s curse, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Hel turned her face away.

  “At any rate, to avoid the negative aspects of the collar, all you have to do is stay put. But know this: I have no doubt that, given enough time, you can figure out a way to remove the collar, but if you do that without having sworn fealty, I will consider it an act of war and bring the full wrath of the Isir against you.”

  Hel’s gaze snapped up to mine and anger blazed there.

  “I’ve given you a chance to redeem yourself—or at least to live in peace. I will not give you another.”

  Hel dropped her eyes and stepped forward. “Then place the collar around my neck yourself, Konungur Isakrim.”

  Althyof put a collar in my hand. I met Luka’s gaze, almost able to feel his hostility on my skin. “This isn’t permanent. I will release you if you change your mind.”

  He stepped forward, beside Hel, and lifted his chin. With a sigh, I snapped the collar around Hel’s neck and murmured the triblinkr that would activate the enchantment. Althyof slid another collar into my waiting hand, and I repeated the process with Luka and stepped back.

  “Do not think I will wear one of your slave collars!” snapped Hrokafutlur.

  I shoo
k my head. “No, I would not dream of it. As I said, I rule the Isir and no others. To the other races, I extend my hand in friendship and ask for your support. I believe a war is coming to us all from beings beyond this universe, whether or not we want it. Our foes are far stronger than any of our races, and perhaps stronger than all of our races combined.”

  “And if we choose not to ally ourselves with you?” rasped a cyclopean fire demon, who Meuhlnir had identified as Surtr, one of the leaders of Muspetlshaymr.

  “If you prefer to sit out this conflict, that’s fine. That’s your choice. I will see you home, and we can part as friends, but you should know that I control the preer—all the preer. Any race that elects to sit this out may do so in the privacy of their own klith, but we will cut their klith off for the time being.”

  Hel bristled. “And where will you imprison my people and me?”

  I nodded at Perkelmir. “On Niflhaymr with Perkelmir.”

  “What’s to stop the rest of us from doing as we please? We’ve access to the strenkir af krafti just as you do. We can learn to access the preer on our own,” asked Surtr.

  I twitched my shoulders up and down. “Maybe. But I know of only two methods of controlling the preer, and I control both methods.” That was a lie, as Haymtatlr controlled one of the methods, and I controlled the knowledge of how to manipulate them without his intervention, which wasn’t quite the same thing. It wouldn’t hold them forever, and if the Plauinn contacted any of the other races, they could teach them to manipulate the preer as they had taught me, and perhaps that way they could wrest control of Haymtatlr’s preer away from him. But we needed time to consolidate, to build our armies, and to make plans to combat Mirkur. The lies might buy us that time.

  Hrokafutlur cleared his throat. “And what if we choose to neither ally with you nor with the lovely Hel, and yet we refuse to sit at home?”

  “Queen Hel,” rasped Luka.

  The Svartalfar inclined his head and waved his hand languidly. “As you say.”

  Althyof stepped forward. “Then we will come after you, driving you out of every place you hide, driving you to Niflhel regardless of your refusals.”